The appointment was made for an abortion. I was a tormented soul. I went through great mental anguish. On one hand, I thought I could have a baby. I could do it. On the other hand, how in the world could I? On the outside I appeared to have my ducks in a row. On the inside I was a mess. What I really wanted more than anything was to curl up in a ball on someone's lap and cry. Cry until I couldn't cry anymore and in a tiny voice whisper,"Help me, please. I don't know what to do." The day came. I had a ride and didn't have any idea what I was in for. Those that support abortion will say that it is like getting a cavity filled or a tooth pulled. No big deal. Another lie.
I wanted to see the "Crazies" that stood outside and tried to talk women out of going in. I wanted to know why they were so against it. But no one was out on the sidewalk that day.
Bear with me, I do not remember everything. There are parts of my time in the killing fields that I cannot account for. I know I was there from like 8am to 1pm. I just don't know the exact order of events anymore. My brain is trying to protect me, I guess. Thank you brain. I do remember the smell of death and fear. It was oppressive really. Nobody smiled. Nobody looked at anyone else. Nobody made small talk. There were so many people! Like herd after herd of cattle. Boyfriends with girlfriends, mothers with daughters. We all knew why we were there even if it wasn't discussed. I think I read some papers. I remember some kind of video. Looked like a cartoon drawing of "a clump of cells." A bunch of red circles. Another lie. I was taken to "counseling." I was asked all sorts of questions about my life and then my answers were turned into "You don't have a husband or boyfriend, you don't have a good job, a nice place, a nice car. What kind of mother would you be??" The counselor said,"Will that be Visa or Mastercard today?" She commented on how self-assured I seemed and that I should be proud of myself for having a plan. Lies. I waited. I remember a girl wandering around and crying. She was about 6 months along. Totally showing, feeling the kicks I am sure. She was begging all of the "nurses" to help her. With all of their compassion, they avoided her. She was a nuisance. I was so grateful to not be her. I didn't have an ultrasound. I did not get to hear that little heartbeat. I don't even remember having a pregnancy test. They told me I was 10 weeks along. How would they know? But then couldn't they have just lied?!
I was brought into a little room. The nurse babbled on about nothing. She told what was happening AS IT WAS HAPPENING. The "doctor" came in. Did not even look at me or talk to me. In fact he seemed angry with me. He was rough, mean, and cruel.(Could he have been anything else?) All business and with such a look of disgust. When abortion supporters say that abortion is "between a woman and her doctor" are they talking about him?!
I don't remember a lot of the procedure. Only parts. The word horrific comes to mind. A loud vacuum sound that I will never forget and pain like I have never felt. My insides torn out.
I sat in a recliner when it was over, with a heated blanket on me and eating peanut butter and jelly toast. I was simply relieved to have it over so I could go home. I could move on. Another lie. I distinctly remember looking around to catch someone's eye and maybe smile with relief. Every single girl that sat in a recliner was crying. The girl across from me was holding her stomach and rocking back and forth holding and saying, "My baby! My baby! My baby!"
Being Real 4
10 comments:
I used to work in the same building with a guy named 'Ray' whose dad was an abortion doctor. Ray was sad, angry, self-reproaching and could never accept that his dad could really have ever loved him as a baby if he could do that to as a living. Ray never wanted to be a father himself, carrying his dad's moral responsibility because his dad wouldn't do it for himself.
Thank you for sharing your real life, Carla.
You worked at Meadowbrook?
You are welcome, fairy wogdog Mark.
This was hard to read, Carla. Harder than I expected. I don't know what to say without sound trite other than that I want to hear the end of the story and how touched I am that you are willing to share your insides with us.
Loving you more every time I come back to your blog...
E.
I'll be praying that God's grace will wash over you today. You are HIS child now, never to be taken away. When you finish typing memories like this, I hope you can curl up in a ball, rest in HIS lap and know that you are forgiven, that you are loved beyond all comprehension.
I will also pray for that woman, girl, boyfriend that might read these posts, looking for a way out, an explanation, someone to tell them what they need to hear. Maybe your posts will give them courage.
Blessings on you!
I love you Carla. You ARE a SPECIAL and LOVED person.
Carla, I was working at Dayton's at the time, not 'Meadowbrook'.
Ray is just another example of the victims that abortionists claim do not exist.
I think you'd better be prepared for some hugs from people.
Mark,
Got it. Sorry. Can't imagine why I am so scatterbrained lately. Weird.
Hugs are good.
This is a striking and affecting memoir, Carla. I have been thinking about it a lot since I read it. I hope it is linked to and read widely. Thank you for having to courage to write and post it.
Thank you Carla. God is using your courage to share for much good. I have no doubt.
Kelli; your comment is a treasure.
Post a Comment